“As thou art courteous, I will even tell thee,” answered Lord Cromwell. “He hath advised me, first, that fair Mistress Throckmorton hath a mortal passion for Sir Walter Raleigh”----
“Peace, brawler!” resumed Cromwell. “Second, that my Lady Nottingham, for some hidden reason, is affronted with my Lord Essex. Third, that my Lady Warwick hath given her lord”----
“An heir, mayhap?” said the Earl of Essex.
“A _hare?_ fie!” answered Cromwell. “A deer would mark nearer.”
“Ha! ha! ha!” roared Bedford and Rutland.
“Now, fie on thee, talebearer!” cried Essex, yet smiling. “We must be on our guard against thee. But who comes now?”
The door opened as he spoke, and loud cries of “Sweet Hal Tracey! good Hal!” in which he himself joined, greeted the person who entered.
Sir Henry Tracey--for such was the real designation of the new comer--answered this welcome in the same spirit, and saluted each of the company separately. That done, he turned to Essex, and, with a familiarity that, of its single self, denoted them to be on the most intimate relations, drew him aside.
“I wait only for thee, Hal,” answered Essex.
“Then, in good sooth, we will even go round by Durham House, and call for Sir Walter Raleigh,” said Tracey.
The Earl changed colour. “What mean’st thou?” he demanded. “Have not I told thee, over and over again, that Sir Walter likes me not?”
“And have not I told thee, with the same perseverance, that thou wast misled?” returned Tracey. “Let me tell thee what he did last even. He was bidding farewell to her Highness, and she, with many loving words, was thanking him that he had that morning done her a good service, by helping her with her horse, when, to the admiration of the court, Sir Walter denied the service was his, and affirmed it was rendered by my Lord Essex. Nay, hear me out! Her Highness, on the outset, would not have it so; but, by and by, Sir Walter did make his words apparent, and righted thee at his own cost. Was this like an enemy?”
“By my hand, no!” exclaimed the impetuous Earl. “Say no more on’t. We will even call for him, and be friends.”
While he was engaged in preparing to carry his purpose into effect, the distinguished personage whom he proposed to visit, like himself, was meditating a journey to Portsmouth. He had just equipped himself for his expedition, when, after a preliminary knock on the door, a servant entered the library, where he was sitting, and solicited access for Sir Robert Cecil.